Dating Los Angeles
by Neneithel
Summary: First Season Steele wonders why all his dates are going so badly.


_**Dating Los Angeles.**_

It really wasn't a complicated proposition. It had always been remarkably easy in the past. He dressed up, he picked the lady up in an extravagant looking car, he wined and dined her in some expensive eatery, preferably at someone else's expense and then he took her to some elegant boudoir and spent an enjoyable evening doing things no gentleman would ever divulge the next day.

That was still the plan, every night, but Los Angeles was proving a bit difficult on that front. The women were attractive enough, some of them were more exquisitely crafted than the jewellery they wore, which made his fingers itch. They were just so ...

Well, take his companion tonight, raven hair, soft, red lips, eyes that shone when she smiled, adornments by Cartier, gown by Louis and a voice like velvet whenever she spoke. But what did she want to talk about? Laura Holt!

She didn't say the name, of course. She thought she was praising Remington Steele. "Oh, Remington, that case where you caught that forger because he got one letter of the signature wrong!" "Oh, you were so brave, going after that mob boss!" "It must be so hard to notice things like that speck of dust that proved Linkley did it." He had to smile, pretend modesty, for her achievements, her cases, her brilliant deductions! A real passion killer.

The one the previous night had been even worse. He conceded that it was no fault of hers, but she had just happened to have a laugh that was almost like Laura's. It should have been attractive, after all, he found Laura's laugh enchanting, but it was like looking at a copy of a painting and knowing that the real thing was in a locked safe nearby.

With the ones who imitated Laura and the ones who fixated on her, every date felt like it included her, and not at all in the way he would have liked. She was there, infuriatingly unattainable, laughing, smiling, touching that soft, silken hair amongst which his fingers longed to play. He couldn't remember the last time he'd really properly enjoyed a date, stakeouts, yes, they were great, but not these nightly hunts for one of the elusive women in Los Angeles who were not conspiring to drive him mad.

Daniel had no time for talk of winning and losing streaks. "All a myth!" he'd say and he was right. So it wasn't bad luck that kept these women from being ... not the woman of his dreams, but a suitable distraction for a night from the loneliness he still often felt.

It was statistically impossible that none of the women in Los Angeles attracted him. Elsewhere, most women attracted him. He had no preference, blonde or brunette, large breasts or small. He'd slept with countesses and kitchen staff. He'd said, "I love you." in fifteen languages at least, across silken pillows in the best of hotels. He was not a difficult man to please.

He could understand her reluctance to mix business with pleasure, Laura's, that was, not the woman currently singing her praises. It did get in the way, constantly. The problem was that she was firmly against dropping the business part and falling into his arms.

He wasn't a fool and he wasn't unreasonable. He knew that she'd worked hard to get where she was and if he ever forgot, anyone of a dozen ladies would be eager to recite more of her exploits in breathless admiration. The agency mattered to her, he got that, but he was by no means sure that one night with him would obliterate it. At worst, it might make them both late for work the next morning.

His companion had asked a question. She gazed at him with those eyes that were just the wrong shade of brown and said, "Don't you think?"

He smiled effortlessly, she had told him the answer she wanted. "Well, yes, of course." he said.

She smiled at him, impressed with his understanding of whatever the Hell she was talking about. Maybe this one would end the right way. He'd charm her a little more, listen to her endless chatter about how wonderful, brave, brilliant and incisive Laura was and then offer to take her home. In the dark, the colour of her eyes wouldn't matter and if he kept kissing her, she wouldn't talk too much about Laura.

She let him order dessert and he ordered an expensive one. She looked impressed and he smiled and assured her with his eyes that she deserved no less. And that was true. She deserved some compensation for the fact that he would see her to her door, but no further, because he knew, as certainly as he knew that every word she'd said about Laura's brilliance was true, that he could not involve Laura in a threesome without her knowledge or consent.

_**The End.**_


End file.
